Yeah, I'm going to say sorry because this book has really been affecting me, some of the issues I took on, I have been coping with and I wanted to take a break. Updates are going to be slow but I'm going to try and finish this the best I can. Thank you for your patience.

P.s. I've been doing a lot of British fics recently so the American terminology might be on the latter. Sorry again.

Chapter 35:

Stan PoV

"Stan, who's that filthy kid in the grey hat?" Dad hisses at me, pointing to the kitchen table.

"Ok, keep your voice down will you?" I spit. "He's my friend, Douglas."

"Why's he here?" Dad asks. "And why is he sat in my seat? I store the occasional cookie under the cushion there for if your mothers cooking is shit."

"Oh shut up." I glare at him, heading back into the dining room. "Here you go." I place the bowl of cereal down in front of him and he picks at it awkwardly.

"Soo!" Dad takes a seat opposite him, folding his arms. "What brings you here, Douglas?"

"Um... Sorry I'm only here for the night." Douglas gulps.

"No you're not you'll stay as long as you like!" I argue, shooting another look at dad.

"Parents chuck you out?" Dad pesters.

"Uh... I don't have parents." He responds.

"Oh don't talk like that." Dad waves his hand. "Stan pretended once that we were dead, just so he could go to his friend's grandma's house... Mind you, I'm not surprised, we can get super annoying."

"Dad shut it." I grimace.

"This one time, I went to every one of his baseball games just to beat other men up." He informs him. "Then this other time, I made everyone in the town live off Margarita's. Oh, oh and Stan, tell your friend about the Blockbuster."

"No." I drone.

"Blockbuster?" Douglas pipes up.

"I used to work at this Blockbuster see." He babbles on. "Stan hated it because he said it was tacky and old fashioned, which now I think about it, it was. It was in a state too the place. But I got it cheap because the previous owner blew her brains out!"

"...Yeah." Douglas nods. "Yeah that was my mum."

"...Oh." Dad mutters, looking at me for some sort of help, but I just bury my head in my hands. "...Well I'm off for a shower."

Kyle PoV

"Oi." I elbow Bebe in the ribs. "Oi, what is going on with Stan and that dude?"

"Hey?" Bebe asks me, exasperatedly. "Oh... I don't know why?"

"They've been spending loads of time together." I eye them up cautiously and she rolls her eyes.

"Do you want to make it any more obvious?" She hisses.

"What?" I frown, tearing my eyes away from him for a second.

"Stan." She replies, bluntly.

"What about him?" I suddenly panic, going to defend myself and she looks slightly taken aback.

"...That you're jealous." She prompts.

"No I'm not I'm just... Curious." I shrug. "That's all."

"Yeah I know." She grins before getting up. "I can tell you're curious."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I question but she's walking away now. Curious? What was she implying?

My thoughts are interrupted when Clyde enters the classroom, he immediately rams his fist down on my desk and I look up at him, confused.

"Did you want something?" I ask and he bursts out laughing, as does Jason, who is at his side.

"Faggot." Clyde spits and the word hits me hard in the chest. I see a few people spin around to look at me.

"...Sorry?" I force back a gulp and he laughs again.

"So you haven't seen your locker?" He narrows his eyes and I shake my head, noticing Stan turning to look in my direction. Oh wow, this was humiliating. "Yeah well someone has written your secret on it."

"What secret?" I try to keep my voice from reaching a higher pitch but Clyde has already gone over to greet Token. I turn to look at Stan, who's eyes are fixated on me, before getting up and leaving the classroom, storming down the corridors of South Park High, until I reach my locker. Clyde was right, someone had defaced my property in thick red spray paint.

'I am gay'. 'Coming out of the locker'. 'Faggot'. 'I love dick'.

The words screamed at me, as if gloating, resting before my eyes. I blink a few times to check it was real before my name booms out over the intercom.

"Kyle Broflovski to the principle's office please." A voice calls out. "That's Kyle Broflovski to the principle's office."

"Kyle I think the principal wants you." Casey Miller pipes up as he walks past me, his nasal voice cutting through my shock.

"Wow really?" I snap and he peers round me to identify my locker.

"Woah..." He gasps. "I did not know you were-"

"Oh shut up." I spit, forcing my way past him and towards the principals office. I open the door without knocking and Mr Mackey looks up in shock.

"Kyle, come in." Principal Victoria says in a sarcastic tone.

"Kyle, we've noticed this morning that your locker has been vandalised mmkay." Mr Mackey greets me as I slump down in the spare seat. "Did you know that locker costs a lot for us to fund? Mmkay? You'll be paying that in debts for the damage you have caused-"

"Woah." I hold my hand up. "You think I did that shit?"

"Language Kyle." Principal Victoria prompts. "This is a very serious matter, damaging a member of school property is an offence."

"Take it up with the low life's who did do it then." I snap and she gives me a blank look.

"So you're saying you didn't do this?" She questions.

"No..." I roll my eyes. "I just decided to write a load of crap on my locker for the fun of it. Humiliate myself a bit, you know?"

"Kyle, being gay shouldn't be something you are ashamed of mmkay." Mr Mackey tells me.

"I'm not..." I begin to object, hesitating slightly before lowering my voice. "I'm not gay."

"You don't have to deny it." He continues and I force myself up off my chair.

"I'M NOT GAY!" I yell and pull the door open to reveal a group of students who were sniggering outside of the door. "FUCK OFF!" I yell, before pushing past them and heading back down the corridor.

Stan PoV

"Aren't you gonna eat that?" Emily asks me, as I pick at a sandwich.

"No." I sigh, pushing my plate away. "Do you want it?"

"I'll have your pickle." She shrugs, pulling it out and chewing on it whilst she stares me down.

"Stan are you ok?" Francis asks me and I nod.

"You don't look ok." Douglas dares to add.

"Look I meant to apologise for what my dad said earlier." I interject.

"Yeah..." He nods. "You've apologised many times."

"Yeah but it was horrible of him." I continue. "He doesn't think sometimes. Never shuts his gob for one second."

"I said it was fine." He forces a laugh. "I'm used to it anyway... All the kids at the... Tease me about it all the time."

I watch Francis and Emily exchange awkward glances, it had been a lot to take in and Douglas was doing a better job of it than us.

"I just feel like a massive weight is pressing down on me." I sigh, diverting the conversation. "All the time. It's stopping me from being happy. Stopping me from doing what I love... Like its controlling me... That sounds stupid but..."

"...No it doesn't." Emily shakes her head at me and I frown. "I know... About that." I see her look at Douglas and he tilts his head slightly.

"What do you mean you know about that?" I question, aware that there was something invisible going on between them.

"Ok, I tell you this and it never gets out." Emily lowers her voice. "Ever. Promise?"

"Promise." I confirm, a look of concern in my eyes.

"...When my mum had a drinking problem..." She says quietly. "I was diagnosed with depression. I was extremely low and down and I didn't want to do anything. I just isolated myself, blamed myself. I used to lock myself away in my bedroom and... Uh... Well I used to self harm, you know? On my thighs where no one could see. It was my way of expressing emotion, because once I left that room I had to pretend to be someone I wasn't. When inside I knew I was drowning."

"I didn't..." I try and fill the silence and she hesitates before going on.

"I uh..." She gulps. "Things got really bad. I began to think about ending it all. I thought I was worthless, there were some days when I didn't even feel alive. I just felt like I was existing rather than living. So I went to the doctors, told them about how I was feeling... And they really helped me. When they told me I had depression I was shocked but it all seemed to make sense. They sent me to this group therapy organisation, where we would take counselling in groups... Thought processing... And uh..."

"And that's where she met me." Douglas pipes up.

"Yeah and me." Francis adds and my eyes dart from one to the other.

"Well obviously we knew of each other before that but... We were never close." Douglas explains. "But this... Group it helped us to know what each of us were going through and relate our feelings to theirs..."

"Feelings that sound similar to yours." Francis points out and my eyes widen.

"Hey..." I laugh slightly. "No... Uh... No, I think you've got this wrong... Nothing has happened in my life to cause me to have this... Disease."

"It's not a disease Stan." Emily giggles. "It's a mental health disorder and I've learnt that it's perfectly alright to accept it."

"Yeah being in denial won't help." Francis informs me. "I had so many rules oppressed on me for my religion and our family were broke and it all just... Fell apart."

"Yeah exactly." I object, quickly lowering my voice so no one could hear. "You had real, proper issues. Emily's mom was drinking, Douglas was in an orphanage. I'm not like that, I have a perfectly... Normal life... If I went to the doctor they'd say I was being pathetic."

"No they wouldn't." Emily stops me. "They never tell you that. They're there to help, not to lie to you."

"I'm just... Hormonal that's all." I shrug.

"Suit yourself dude." Douglas places a hand on my shoulder. "But if I were you? I'd go to the doctor as soon as possible. Else you don't know what could happen..."